An Engineer in Middle Earth
by Concho117
Summary: David Jones is an aspiring NASA engineer, however when a Diety hatches a plan to fix Middle Earth, David will find himself in the middle of a world he though was fiction and must prepare for the war to come.
1. Prologue

A/N: This will be my first work of fanfiction, and will primarily deal with the introduction of modern technology and methods into the fantasy/medieval world of Middle Earth, specifically the nation of Gondor. This fic, particularly in the beginning will deal primarily with the social, poltitical, and economic ramification an industrial revolution would have on such a society. So while there will be some military campaigns covered, those will occur later in the fic. If you would prefer a fic which jumps straight into orcs being killed by machine guns and howitzers I would like to refer you to _Saruman of the many Devices_ by Saphroneth. A fic which I have heartily enjoyed.

Disclaimer: I do not own _The Lord of the Rings._

 **Chapter One: Prologue**

* * *

 **In The Void**

Eru Ilúvitar gazed upon All That Is.

He was disappointed.

This world had shown so much promise, but alas it had decayed. However He was not one to give up hope and gods are nothing if not cheating bastards. So Eru looked across all his other creations and formed a plan.

' **Yes**.' Eru Ilúvitar thought to himself.

' **This will do.** '

Eru Ilúvitar projected his will across creation.

And then all was silent.

* * *

 **NASA Plasmadynamics Lab, California, Earth**

 **May 2020**

David was working late. Again.

The sensitive instruments in the lab had been receiving anomalous signals all day and while all the other researches had decided to go home and investigate tomorrow, David's curiosity pushed him slightly harder than his colleagues to discover the source of the readings.

But alas it was approaching midnight, so David saved all of his findings into his laptop and packed up his gear to leave. Before heading home however, David wanted to check the high altitude sensor array nearby to see if something had changed.

The sensor array was a relatively new installment. Boasting some of the latest and greatest tools NASA could afford, it functioned much like a high powered magnet. Drawing in plasma readings from the upper stratosphere and transmitting them to the lab.

However this also had the unfortunate effect of drawing in minor amounts of trans-dimensional energy which would normally not even be recorded. But Eru Ilúvitar's will was still racing throughout creation and the array attracted that power like a lightning rod.

David drove up to the sensor array in his Volt, parking next to the array and began shifting through the array's interface.

The sky lit up.

The array beeped in alarm.

David, the array, and his car vanished.


	2. Chapter 2: Welcome to Middle Earth

**Chapter Two: Welcome to Middle Earth!**

* * *

 **Rammas Echor Outskirts, Gondor**

 **2988 T.A.**

Brayan was bored.

He and a group of five rangers had been tasked with patrolling the edges of Pelennor fields and the assignment was a dull one. When he signed up for the rangers he envisioned sneaking through orc infested lands or infiltrating a goblin stronghold, something exciting and thrilling to warm the blood!

Instead what he got was patrol duty. So much for adventures in foreign lands, he could still see the city for crying out loud!

There weren't any orcs or goblins this close to Minas Tirith and there never would be as long as the Gondorian army held Osgiliath. That was a comforting thought, but it also bored him out of his mind.

"Hey Rowan, think we'll get something more exciting next time?" he asked to the ranger next to him.

"Shut up Brayan. You shouldn't tempt fate like that." Rowan responded.

"Hold." Called out the squad leader as the group came to a stop.

"Dammit Brayan. If we're ambushed by orcs after this I blame you." Rowan whispered to Brayan.

"Quiet!" Yelled out Carvel, the squad leader.

A scout on horseback rode up to the group and dismounted. The scout whispered a few clipped phrases to Carvel, remounted, and galloped away.

Carvel had an unreadable look upon his face.

"Alright!" He commanded. "Scouts have spotted a man in strange clothes making his way towards Minas Tirith. We, are going to intercept him and, if needed, detain him for questioning. I want this done by the books. Aaron and Rowan will approach from the rear while Brayan and myself come in from the sides. He could be dangerous so stay on guard at all times."

With that the ranger patrol picked up its pace unaware that their actions were about to change the world.

* * *

 **Southeastern Druaden Forest, Gondor**

 **A few hours earlier.**

David slowly came to.

As he opened his eyes the first thing he noticed he was that he was in a forest of some sort. The leafy green canopy above him blotting out the sun as he rested for a moment.

The second thing he noticed was that he was sore, very sore. And while it was tempting to simply lie there for the rest of the day something nagged at his mind.

'Huh.' David thought. 'Wasn't I on top of a hill just now? Actually come to think of it how is it daytime already, it was almost 11:00 when I went to check the sensor array and..."

David jumped up and looked around. Suddenly very aware that the last thing he remembered was the iconic flash of lightning.

"What?" Muttered David.

'I shouldn't be anything more than a cloud of ionized gas right now. So somehow I survived getting struck by lightning and... ended up... in a forest. Weird' He thought.

As he looked around he noticed that his car and what was left of the sensor array were a few feet away from him.

"Well that's unfortunate." He said to himself as he made his way to the sensor array and examined the charred stump that used to be a support beam.

'Luckily most of the instruments are intact, so maybe it isn't a complete loss.' David thought to himself as he dragged the array into the trunk of his car.

He then proceeded to examine his modified Chevy Volt for any damage. David's car was not exactly what could be called 'standard'. Due to the nature of his work David sometimes had to do extend drives miles from civilization following plasma patterns in the atmosphere and his car reflected that. The roof was covered in aerospace-grade solar panels which he got from a friend at Boeing and the exterior was covered in a myriad of steel bars and external lights to keep wildlife away and maintain visibility, respectively. The internal battery had been upgraded from the standard factory-grade lithium polymer to an experimental quantum dot solution from the lab which improved battery life and charge time. He also had various medical kits and a few spare parts in case he got hurt or the car broke down. Overall David had been quite proud of his car when he had finished modifying it.

David jumped in the drivers seat and started the car, letting out a sigh of relief when the heard the engine purr to life. As he started maneuvering the car in a generally southward direction he quickly realized that the thick roots and tree branches would make navigating the forest almost impossible. As such he maneuvered the car under a rocky overhang and quickly set about disguising car with leaves and branches so as to dissuade any curious animals passing by. Once he was suitably pleased with his work he recovered a knife from on of his medical kits and continued on foot to search for any signs of civilization.

A few hours of walking later and he noticed the trees thinning out. But before he could stop to think about that he saw something which made him freeze.

There. In the distance. Was something he had only ever seen in fiction.

It was a city. A big white city. But that wasn't the shocking part. The shocking part was that David knew this city. I was Minas Tirith.

Now David had been a Lord of the Rings fan long ago. He grew up with the series like many of his colleagues did. But none of that had ever prepared him for the massive white city towering in the distance.

He began to slowly walk towards the city, as if in a daze, when a voice shocked him out of his reverie.

"Halt." A gruff voice called out. "State your origin and intentions for approaching Minas Tirith."

* * *

 **Rammas Echor Outskirts** **, Gondor**

 **2988 T.A.**

Captain Carvel had expected a short and relatively safe patrol. So imagine his surprise when he was called to investigate the sudden appearance of a traveler.

He was concerned. There had been no warning from the outer patrols or the border guards which meant that this man had either slipped past them or killed them. Neither of which boded well. On top of that was the way in which the man was dressed. The garbs were like nothing Carvel had ever seen before. No that wasn't quite true, he had seen such colorful clothing on nobility and he did recognize the strip of leather around his waist as a belt. But the rest was foreign to him. There were no patches or noticeable stitches on his clothes. And the material was none that he was familiar with.

Yes, it would be wise to be cautious.

After observing the man for a few seconds, he called out. "Halt!" And then, "State your origin and intentions for approaching Minas Tirith." The common script read to those entering the city.

At this the man jumped and looked around looking for him. Carvel having ascertained that the man was not armed, sheathed his sword and walked out of the foliage behind which he had been hiding.

The man stared at me as if I had grown a second pair of eyes, growing increasingly uncomfortable with the attention I repeated the script. "State your origin and intentions for approaching Minas Tirith."

This time the man responded in accented, yet understandable Common speech.

"I. Am David"

And with a slight smirk he said,

"Take me to your leader."

At which point he proceeded to faint. Right in front of me.

This was going to be a long day.


	3. Chapter 3: Recovery

**Chapter Three: Recovery**

* * *

 **Healing House, Minas Tirith, Gondor**

 **2988 T.A.**

I slowly drifted awake.

I seem to be doing that a lot lately. I opened my eyes and saw an unfamiliar ceiling.

'Right I'm in Middle Earth, aren't I.' I thought to myself. Feeling more annoyed than the hysteria I should be feeling.

"Ah, I see you're awake." Said a soft voice to my right.

I turned and saw a woman standing over me, presumably a nurse considering her dress matched those of the other women whom were roving around the room checking patients.

As I sat up she said, "You should rest for another hour two before you start walking around. You were suffering from exhaustion and you're still as pale as a sheet."

I nodded as she walked away to talk to one of the guards at the door.

I took this time to ponder my situation.

'Middle Earth huh? Well it could be words. I could be stuck in the Warhammer 40k verse.' That thought sent a shiver down my spine.

'So' I thought to myself. 'Time to take stock. I, am currently at Minas Tirith. Depending on when I am things could go pretty well... or I could be slaughtered by an army of orcs. Or humans. Or orcs and humans. That train of thought led nowhere.'

I looked around the room observing carefully the people and objects in it. The room had ten beds, nine of which were filled, as for the staff there were three nurses and two guards at the door.

I also started comparing the medical technology and procedures the nurses were using. They didn't seem to have anything more advanced than herbs to use as medicine. However they did have nurses or at least attendants to look after the patients. Which in itself was a fairly advanced concept.

The room itself was made of stone and poorly ventilated. It was clean but not necessarily hygienic. And I'm pretty sure sterilization was a foreign concept here. Great.

My own bed was placed close to the guards. Whether this was a security measure or just random chance I don't know, but it did give me the opportunity to eavesdrop on the conversation the guards were having.

"Damn shame what happened to the Steward" Said guard 1.

"Right, two boys to take care of and a sick wife. Wouldn't wish that on anyone." Replied guard 2.

'Ok' I thought to myself. 'So by the Steward they probably mean Denethor, which means that his wife hasn't died yet, she's just sick. Which in turn means that Denethor isn't crazy right now. Good.'

It was a few hours later that the doors at the end of the room opened and the nurse came back accompanied by a guard. After a few seconds of fussing over me the nurse left and the guard spoke.

"Now that you have recovered please follow me, we just have to ask you a few questions."

* * *

 **Interrogation Room, Minas Tirith, Gondor**

 **2988 T.A.**

I was led to a small room with two chairs. The guard sat in one while I sat in the other.

"Okay, let's start with names. Mine is Braesen, what is yours?" Prompted the guard.

"David Jones" I replied.

"Alright David, what is your reason for visiting our fine city." he asked.

At this point I considered what I knew of the timeline. I knew that Sauron would begin encroaching on Gondor if he hadn't already and I also know that the battle of Pelennor fields would occur around 3019. Denethor's wife wasn't dead and he wasn't crazy and I wanted it to stay that way since a Gondor with strong leadership would benefit everyone involved. And be less likely to lead to me getting my head chopped off by an orc. Yes, having a head is good.

"I was actually venturing here to offer my services to the Steward." I ventured.

The guard seemed surprised at this, his expression one of disbelief.

"And what skill, pray tell, could you possibly have that would interest him." Braesen asked.

Here we go. Moment of truth.

"I may be able to cure his lordship's wife of her disease." I responded.

At this Braesen's countenance grew stony.

"That's a bold claim you make. Many others have tried and failed. What proof can you offer that you can do as you say?" He asked.

"I come from a place far away from here called America, my people have developed special tools with which to fight sickness. And besides what does Denethor have to lose." I countered, while staring him in the eye. While also thinking of the few vials of antibiotics I had stored away in my car.

"Wait here." He commanded. And left the room.

It was a few minutes later in which a much more finely dressed man, though still armed, walked in the room.

"Hello, my name is Riston. I am a member of the Guards of the Citadel and I heard that you wished to see the Steward."

Good. I was moving up the chain of command which meant that they were taking me seriously. And while I doubt that this would be allowed under normal circumstances, Denethor's desperation to save his wife would most likely cause anyone who could offer hope to be rushed through. Thereby ignoring the proper channels and giving me a chance to prove myself.

"No, actually I am here to see his wife. However if I am to cure her I will require the belongings I hid not far from here." I reply to Riston.

Riston narrows his eyes in suspicion.

"And where would those items be?" He asked.

"To the north of here near the edge of Pelennor fields." I reply truthfully.

"I see." he replied.

"You will of course be accompanied by three guards, if you attempt to flee they will of course give chase, arrest you, and return you here."

Oh please it's not like I have anywhere better to be.

"That would be acceptable." I reply.

"Very good. Be ready to ride out at dawn at the main gate. A man will be in here soon to show you to your quarters." After which he quickly left without another word.

* * *

 **The Great Gates, Minas Tirith, Gondor**

 **2988 T.A.**

Brayan was bored.

Apparently Rowan, another ranger named Erik, and himself would be escorting the newcomer he had met a few days ago. Babysitting was still not the exciting assignment he was looking for. There were also orders to chase down and capture the newcomer should he make a run for it, which at least promised some entertainment.

So here they were, three elite rangers. Standing just outside the gates of Minas Tirith. On babysitting duty.

He let out a displeased sigh.

"What do you think of the foreigner?" Asked Rowan.

"As long as he's not as annoying as you, I don't really care." Brayan responded disinterestedly.

"Oh come on Brayan, there's gotta be something you find curious. I mean a complete stranger wearing strange clothes just walks up to Pelennor fields, faints, and is now being escorted out to retrieve something by three rangers? Whatever he's looking for it's probably important. Might even be some magical artifact." Said Rowan.

"It is not for simple soldiers like us. Now quiet down, they are coming." Replied Brayan as he spots the foreigner approaching them with a Citadel Guard at his side.

Once they arrive the Citadel Guard speaks, "Rangers. You have all been briefed on your current assignment. If he tries to flee you know what to do."

And with that command the group of four head out from the Great Gates of Minas Tirith.


	4. Chapter 4: Opening Moves

**Chapter Four: Opening Moves**

* * *

 **Outside the** **Rammas Echor** **, Minas Tirith, Gondor**

 **2988 T.A.**

Today I learned that riding a horse is a very painful thing. Even with a saddle.

The original plan was for each man to have their own horse. My escorts had been quickly disabused of that notion. Eventually I ended up having to ride with one of my escorts while holding on for dear life.

"Listen up." Called one of my escorts, whom I learned was named Brayan.

"We will lead you to whence we found you, and from there you will retrieve whatever tools you need. After which we have been ordered to return you to Minas Tirith and hand you over to the Guards of the Citadel. Do you understand?" He asked.

I simply nod my head in acquiescence as our group begins to move towards the forest.

"You're quite fortunate you know." Says the one called Rowan in an attempt to strike up a conversation.

"How so?" I reply.

"Well, not many can pass through the forest without being set upon by the wild beasts and men which inhabit it." Explains Rowan.

"That you seem to have done so implies a great amount of luck... or a great amount of skill." He continues.

"I guess I'm just lucky then." I reply halfheartedly as I let the conversation die out.

Rowan frowns but says nothing.

We reach the edge of the forest and quickly dismount.

"We continue on foot from here." Announces Brayan as he assigns the third ranger in out group to stay behind and watch the horses.

Once the group is ready Brayan gestures towards the forest with his sword. A signal which I assume means to lead the way.

We continue in silence as I backtrack through the forest, looking for the landmarks and paths I used to get to Pelennor Fields in the first place.

As I walk I think back to what I remember about the denizens of Middle Earth, this forest specifically was the territory of the Drúedain, a race of wild men if memory serves. Not to mention the various wolves, goblins, dragons, balrogs, and trolls that seem to infest the continent. How anyone ever built anything here is beyond me.

I let out a small sigh.

Considering what I plan to do I guess I'll find out soon enough.

As we approach the clearing in which I stashed my car I realize that there might be a small problem with introducing people who think that a good sword is the epitome of modern technology to something as advanced as a car.

I'm going to have to think fast here.

"We are approaching were I hid my tools. However before we venture any further I want both of you to swear an oath to not take any rash actions towards what you might see." I tell my escorts.

They stop and examine for a few seconds, and just as it begins to feel awkward Rowan turns to Brayan and after a few whispered words Brayan turns to me and replies:

"As long as our lives are not threatened and what we see is not a danger to Gondor, we find such an oath acceptable." He says.

Alright. Well that was easier than I thought.

"Thank you." I reply.

However while this guarantees that I won't be killed for having a car, it will only increase their curiosity as to why I would require such an oath.

Perhaps a bit of explanation would put their minds at ease...

"Where I come from..." I begin.

"...we do not use horses to travel long distances." I continue.

Brayan and Rowan look at me curiously as I continue to walk across the clearing to the camouflaged car.

"Instead," I say.

"Our, you could say, metalsmiths forge great... carts... that can move themselves without the need of beasts of burden."

There's gasps and widening of eyes as I pull the branches of the car. It's glittering exterior doing little to lessen the shock value.

* * *

 **Clearing, Southeastern Druaden Forest, Gondor**

 **Minutes Earlier**

'Eerie.' Rowan thought.

Rowan had been trying to converse with, David he said his name was, but had so far been unsuccessful.

Rowan had always been curious, even when he was a small child. It was one of the reasons he had signed up with the rangers. The allure of long trips in the wild, exploring the unexplored, it had called out to him. So when something as interesting as this 'David' had appeared, he wanted to question and to know more about this oddly dressed fellow.

Though Rowan had to admit, the oath he was made to swear was an ominous one.

However he had not gotten to where he was in life through cowardice, and they had orders, so Brayan and himself decided to go through with it and see what their charge had in store.

The foreigner's sudden voice broke Rowan from his thoughts.

"Where I come from we do not use horses to travel long distances. Instead… our, you could say, metalsmiths forge great... carts... that can move themselves without the need of beasts of burden."

That had been the longest sentence Rowan had heard David say. But there was something about the way it was spoken, slowly and methodically as if not to frighten or perhaps calming would be a more suitable description. But why...

Then David removed the branches.

…

'...An egg.' Was Rowan's first thought.

'A giant, shining, metal egg.'

'But no...' Rowan thought as he looked closer, his innate curiosity spilling over. It was not an egg, it had the general shape, yes. But upon further examination the surface was not smooth, the egg was covered in geometrical patterns. It also had eyes, which was a disturbing thought. Thankfully it was also in a cage, he could easily see the iron bars which covered it's form.

David looked nervous, as if expecting Brayan and myself to suddenly run screaming or burst into flame.

"I've seen bigger." Said Brayan from beside me.

At this David looked confused.

Brayan drew a deep breath and explained, "I have seen trolls the size of mountains slaughtering scores of men, dragons dealing death and fire and despair, so you will forgive me if this metal shell is not the most awesome thing I have encountered in my time as a ranger."

"Huh. Well that was anticlimactic." Said David. "Just give me a few seconds to get my things and re-camouflage my cart and we can return to the city."

As he said this David retrieved what looked like small white boxes from inside the shell which he proceeded to place in a dark green sack he slung across his back.

With our mission now completed we set off on our way back to Minas Tirith.

* * *

 **The Great Gate, Minas Tirith, Gondor**

 **Hours Later**

Riston was waiting for us when we got back, expression stoic as ever. After ordering the guards away he turned to me and said:

"His lordship wishes to see you. I will serve as your escort through the city until such a time you are deemed worthy of free passage."

With that said, he turned around and began walking off.

'I'm getting the feeling he doesn't like dealing with me.' I thought as I began to make my way after him.

As we made our way through the city it struck me just how empty the city was. It was one thing to read about how the population was halved by a series of catastrophes, but quite another to see the effects in person. Some of the middle rings were almost completely abandoned, only a lone clothesline or candle to give any indication that there were people living in the semi-crumbling houses.

But I could focus on touring the city later. Currently there was a task at hand and after being led through many gatehouses and flights of stairs by Riston, we finally made it to what I presumed they called the Citadel.

Royalty didn't do anything small, did they?

The massive spire overlooking the courtyard says no.

Before entering the main hall, Riston turns to me and says, "We are about to enter the throne room. You shall address his lordship as such. You will also refrain from using terms of royalty when addressing the Steward and you will only speak when prompted to. Is that clear?" He asks.

"Crystal." I respond through gritted teeth.

Riston looks me over once more and gives a slight frown. Then with a signal to the guards at the door we enter the room.

"Your lordship, I have brought the traveler you wished to see." Informs Riston.

The hall is well lit, the marble walls and columns stretching upwards towards a high ceiling. The sigil of a tree is outlined on the far wall behind the stone throne. In front of which sits none other than Denethor himself. Overall the room gives an atmosphere of grandeur and power. Impressing upon all who enter the strength of Minas Tirith and all of Gondor. Regardless of what the reality of the situation may be.

"Greetings," Denethor speaks in a resounding tenor. "I am the Denethor the Second, Steward of Gondor. As I understand you are named David and seek to cure my ailing wife."

The books and movies really don't do justice towards how far Denethor fell before the war began. It's actually very difficult to reconcile the regal man I see before me with the pitiable and broken figure from the movies.

Denethor himself was garbed in a black and silver cloak, from his appearance you could see the inner steel and strength of personality which befit a ruling noble. But you could also see a sadness to his eyes and bearing, as if he were being weighed down by the weight of all his responsibility.

"Many have come with identical claims as your own so you might forgive us for not accepting your word as honest. To prove you can achieve what you claim a trial has been arranged, there is another woman by the name of Laura the elder, whom has volunteered to receive your aid. If you can manage to cure her of her ailment, you will be allowed to try it upon Findulias. These are my terms."

Well, moment of truth. Time to stick with the plan and hope that whatever's going around can be cured with modern medicine.

"I accept."


	5. Chapter 5: Not That Kind of Doctor

**Chapter Five: Not That Kind of Doctor**

* * *

 **Healing House, Minas Tirith, Gondor**

 **2988 T.A.**

Things moved quickly after the audience. I was given a room in the healing house in which to work, an assistant, and was introduced to the patient.

Turns out Laura the elder earned her title. She was almost eighty years old, which considering the level of medical technology in Middle Earth, was a fairly impressive achievement in and of itself.

My assistant was a young man named Bryce. A very interesting guy, apparently his parents had been killed in a raid on his village. Bryce had shown up to Minas Tirith with what little possessions he had and had made a medical career out of it. He was fairly successful as well if being given this task by Denethor was any indication.

So here we were, three people in a room, in a healing house.

And me with a penlight pointed up someone's nose.

"Yup, definitely infected." I said.

Bryce gave me a very confused look.

"Sir, if I may ask, why are you examining the patients nose? We have already informed you of the nature of the disease, as well as all the relevant teas and herbs we've given her." Questioned Bryce.

Herbs and Teas huh?

"Well, I simply wanted to verify that my tools would work on old Laura here." I replied.

I quickly finished my inspection and proceeded to open the first aid kit I had brought with me.

"And that's another thing." Started Bryce. "You mentioned special tools, but I fail to see how anything you could have might work on her ailment when even our most potent salves have done nothing to ease her pain."

I draw out some of the yellowish antibiotic into a disposable hypodermic needle.

"Oh, that's easy. I'm going poison her." I say while plunging the needle into her skin and depressing the plunger.

Bryce, now pale, says, "Pardon, but did you just imply that you were going to kill our patient."

"Of course not. Why would you think that." I reply easily. Having not given him any indication that I had noticed his change in demeanor.

I check Laura's pulse and respiration once more. After ascertaining that there had not been an allergic reaction to the medicine I turn towards and Bryce.

"Ok Mr. Bryce, time for a lesson in Biology." I say, interrupting whatever argument Bryce had planned out.

"A human being is nothing more than an animal."

At this he gives me an affronted look, as if I had just given a great insult.

"Medically speaking." I amend quickly which seems to calm him down some.

"A human is an animal, however if you were to look deeper you would find that the human body is made up of a vast quantity of smaller animals." I explain, deciding not to go into explanations of what prokaryotes and eukaryotes are.

"Now each of these animals have very specific functions, and when all the animals are doing their jobs, a person is considered healthy. This is something the doctors from where I come from call homeostasis."

"I'm sorry, but I was under the impression that you were a healer yourself." Questions Bryce, interrupting my monologue.

Seriously, I just explained to him that his body is an over glorified zoo and he choses to focus on that? Must not have really sunken in yet.

"I am a doctor..." I reply. "...just not that kind of doctor. Where I come from a doctor simply denotes a level of knowledge, not a specific profession." I explain to a slightly overwhelmed Bryce.

"Okay, continuing on. When a person becomes ill, such as our Laura here, it means that something is interfering with the tiny animals which make up her body. In her particular case it is another tiny animal, a bad one, which eats the good animals in her body." I say, continuing the lecture.

Realization dawns on his face.

"Ah, so that was why you said you were poisoning her!" Exclaims Bryce. "You were not poisoning her, but the evil... tiny... animals. You do realize this is madness, correct?" Asks Bryce.

"Well, I've already administered the medicine. So we will have to wait and see whether I am crazy, or right." I counter.

"Unfortunately, it will take a few more days and applications before we will see improvement. Until then the best we can do for Laura is make her comfortable and keep her well rested and hydrated." I say as I close my medical kit and head for the exit.

Bryce just sits there, looking at Laura as she sleeps, a look of intense concentration on his face as he ponders what I have just told him.

* * *

 **3rd Circle, Minas Tirith, Gondor**

 **A few minutes later.**

I had been assigned a room by Denethor and was escorted by Riston. The room itself was located in a well off part of the city and was fairly comfortable and well lit as seemed to be the norm in Minas Tirith. It was now that I had time to ponder what my plans were.

'Okay, I'm in Middle Earth. Assuming that I'm not killed by something completely out of my control, there are a few things I can do.' I think to myself.

Considering what I know of Cannon I have maybe 30 years before Sauron invades. However I have no intention of sticking to Cannon as its in my best interest to have a strong Gondor between myself and Sauron and the Gondor of the main timeline was not nearly as strong as it could have been.

'Step one.' I think to myself. 'Cure Finduilas, which ingratiates myself to Denethor and gets me some local currency.'

'Then, I need to get established here in a position of relative importance. Something which can be accomplished through information control.'

I'm gonna need to build a printing press. Knowledge is power after all.

'I should seek out the local blacksmith then, since I'm going to be seeing him quite often from now on.'

After all, where better to get the complex metal components needed for a press than a man whose profession it is to make complex metal things.

Course of action planned out, and feeling better about my relative position here, I head out to try to track down the nearest forge.


	6. Chapter 6: Meet the Family

**Chapter Six: Meet the Family**

* * *

 **Healing House, Minas Tirith, Gondor**

 **2988 T.A.**

The not-healer called David was a strange man with strange methods.

Bryce was currently on his way up to the room in which their patient was in.

'Not a healer.' Thought Bryce incredulously. 'If he's not a healer then I'm an elf.'

Bryce liked David enough, though he still thought he was a bit mad. After all, who could possibly have thought that a person could be made up of millions of animals.

'There would have been some indication, someone would have noticed something like fleas...' Bryce stopped this line of thought as he entered the room.

"What in Estë's name are you doing?" Exclaimed Bryce as he took note of the room.

Specifically the large cauldron of boiling water placed next to the window. The cauldron was filled with what he recognized as the strips of cloth and rags that were used to tend to Laura.

"I'm sterilizing things." Replied David.

"Sterilizing?" Asked Bryce.

"Yes, you know those tiny animals which cause disease? They can also be killed by heat as well as poison." Explained David.

Bryce chose not to ask further, since the last time he tried his entire knowledge of healing had been flipped on its head.

* * *

 **Guest Quarters, Minas Tirith, Gondor**

 **Days Later**

So I met the Blacksmith the other day, a portly dwarf who went by the name of Jimli. He had moved to Minas Tirith from Bree and was quite boastful when I showed him the designs for the parts I needed for the printing press.

In more recent news Laura appears to be recovering. Bryce predicts that she will be fit enough to leave the healing house by tomorrow, a diagnosis which I too share. Before I can think more on the subject I'm disturbed from my thoughts by a knocking on the door.

I go to open the door and there stands none other than Riston, with his usual annoyed look.

"It is time. Your presence has been requested at his Lordship's home, gather all supplies you require."

As I begin gathering the kits I'll need to cure Finduilas I glance at him and ask, "What of Laura?"

"She is no longer your concern." He awnsers curtly.

"I see." Is all I say in reply, not wishing to annoy my escort more than necessary.

* * *

 **Stewards Manor, Minas Tirith, Gondor**

 **2988 T.A.**

I am guided up to a large, yet unassuming, home which blended in with all of the other large manors which made up this level of the city. I was actually quite surprised that the highest authority in the entire nation would reside anywhere other than the Citadel itself.

As we entered the manor, there was the sound of shattering ceramics, as well as rapidly approaching footsteps. The source of which was made clear when two dark haired children ran into the hall, the smaller of the two being chased by the elder.

"Boromir, Faramir. What did your father tell you about roughhousing indoors?" Riston calls out.

"Oh lighten up Riston, everyone needs a little excitement now and then!" Calls our Boromir as they race out of sight behind a corner.

'Weird, so apparently Riston knows the family somehow.' I think to myself as we make our way upstairs and approach a set of doors.

"This is the Steward's chamber, you shall meet him inside." He informs, opening the doors and stepping aside.

The room I find myself in is an interesting contrast to the stark stone rooms I have been in so far, with the wooden panelings and crackling fireplace providing a warm atmosphere. Unfortunately this is somewhat ruined by the matter at hand, as in the large bed is Finduilas of Dol Amroth. As I look her over, I can easily point out the gaunt complexion and dark circles under her eyes which indicates illness. There are three people in the room as well which I do not recognize, two appear to be guards if the sheaths are any indication and one looks like a maid.

"Ah, I see you've made it." Speaks Denethor, who is seated near the bed. "I heard of the miraculous recovery of your patient and have high hopes. I trust that you have been felt welcome in the city?" He questions.

"Ah yes, I haven't had any trouble if that's what you're asking." I reply politely.

"Good, good." He says and gestures for the maid to come forward.

"This is Etean, Finduilas's maid, she is trained in medicine and can assist you should you require it."

"A pleasure to meet you." She says with a curtsy in the same soft professional voice apparently all of the nurses in Minas Tirith share.

"Likewise." I reply giving a slight bow.

"Well do not let me keep you from your craft..." He trails off, looking at the wasting woman on the bed as he steps to the side of the room.

Methodically, I take the penlight from one of the kits and begin looking Finduilas over, marking down any obvious symptoms as well as her general condition in a small notebook retrieved from the kit.

That done, I administer the antibiotics and begin to clean out any wounds or sores I can reach.

All the while I can feel Denethor's eyes taking in every action I take with concerned, calculating eyes.

After I had finished treating Finduilas, I asked Etean to replace the bedsheets and anything that might have been in contact with Finduilas and bathe it in steam. When asked why I simply replied that it would better Finduilas's condition and hopefully prevent the disease from spreading.

As Etean was busy doing that I turned to Denethor and said, "I have done all I can for today and the medicine which I have given her will allow her to sleep more easily. It is of the utmost importance that she remain hydrated, I shall return tomorrow to check on her and administer more medicine."

Denethor only nods as Riston begins to lead me away from the room and back to my apartment.


	7. Chapter 7: Progress

**Chapter Seven: Progress**

* * *

 **1st Circle, Minas Tirith, Gondor**

 **2988 T.A.**

I was in something of a conundrum. I had many ideas on what to build, but none of that mattered if I couldn't get a place from which to work. I had generally found that most commercial, and what passed for industrial, was placed in the first circle. So here I was looking for a place to set up shop.

Minas Tirith was actually quite beautiful now that I had the time to calmly examine everything. The white stone corridors were lined with greenery, and covered by a network of passages and overpasses. The towering structures almost reminiscent of the skyscrapers back home. An illusion quickly shattered by the plate armor soldiers manning the walls and patrolling the streets.

"Hello lad, are you lost?" Called out a voice near me.

I looked around and saw that the voice had come from an old lady who had been sitting on a chair in front of a nondescript shop.

"Um, yes actually." I replied. "I'm looking to set up a new business and I require a fairly large place in which to work."

"Ah, a new comer are ye?" She said. "Well, you can generally find good shops on the first level..."

'Ok.' I thought 'Knew that already.'

"...but as for something large, you may want to look up the old granary at the northern edge of the city." She finished.

Hm, a granary. Might work and probably has some outside access for cargo.

"All right, thanks for the help ma'am." I say.

"Always glad to lend a hand."

So with this new information I decided to check put the granary.

* * *

 **Northern 1st Circle, Minas Tirith, Gondor**

 **2988 T.A.**

She wasn't kidding when she mentioned that the granary had been large. This place may have even given the throne room a run for its money. There were a few drawbacks however, the structure hadn't been used in a long time and had begun to deteriorate. Nothing too bad, but there definitely bee some renovation costs. Secondly there were very few windows, something not surprising for a civilization which hadn't discovered plate glass, which made for a very dark work environment. But all of this could be forgiven as the granary had a tunnel to Pelennor fields. Yes, it had been quite well hidden actually and I doubt anyone would have noticed had I not been looking for it.

However, when I tried to find the owner, all the people I asked only said that it was owned by the city and doubted that it would be sold off.

Probably something to keep in mind.

* * *

 **The Citadel, Minas Tirith, Gondor**

 **2988 T.A.**

The infection had been slightly more stubborn than expected, and it took longer to combat than it did with Laura, but the treatment was eventually successful. It was quite gratifying to see the improvement in Finduilas, the color slowly returned to her skin, her breath became easier with each passing day, and then within a week of beginning treatment she started speaking again. Denethor had been overjoyed.

Now I had been summoned once again to the Citadel, without an escort I noticed. Apparently they now trusted me enough to not get lost or make a run for it.

It was easy enough to find my way back up to the 7th circle whereupon I was immediately escorted to Denethor himself who was sitting on the grass and examining a dead white tree.

"Come, sit with me." Denethor said.

As I sat, I asked, "That's the White Tree of Gondor, isn't it?"

Denethor let out a rough laugh. "Yes, or what's left of it anyway. How cruel it is, knowing that it matters not how well I govern or whether I am a just ruler, that the tree will never again bloom until a true king comes and I am relieved of my position."

"Well, to be fair the tree only designates a king is present, so the reverse might well be true. A king could sit upon the throne and be cruel, yet the tree would bloom regardless."

"Very true." Denethor replies. "However I did not call upon you merely to debate politics. You have cured my wife, and upheld your promise. Now it is time to keep mine. What is your price for services rendered?"

Ah, it's reward time.

"Well, m'lord. I had been planning to open up a business here in Minas Tirith. However I require starting funds and a place to work, so I was hoping that perhaps you would be willing to part with the old granary, and 20 gold coins." I say, hoping he would accept.

"A business you say? What type, if I may be so bold as to inquire."

Sales pitch time, "Well I will be building something called a printing press, it can rapidly spread information. I wanted to create a news service."

"You are an inventor then?" Denethor asks.

"Yeah, of a sort." I half reply.

Denethor looks at me for a long moment. "My wife means very much to me." He states looking back at the tree. "Seeing her in good health is something I had given up hope of seeing for many years now."

Denethor trails of for a minute still looking at the tree.

"It heartens me to know that you will remain in the city. Innovation is something which had not graced this land in a long time. I will grant your request, as well as doubling the gold you asked for as a gesture of thanks." Denethor finally speaks.

Wow, I'm almost left speechless by this gesture. Luckily Denethor isn't finished speaking.

"My guards will escort you to the treasury, where you shall receive the deed to the granary and the gold. I expect great things of you David Jones, do not disappoint me." He states, ending the conversation as a guard approaches.

"I hope so, for both our sakes." I say back to him as I'm led away by the guard.

* * *

 **Northern 1st Circle, Minas Tirith, Gondor**

 **2 days later.**

So as it turns out 40 gold coins are quite a lot in Minas Tirith. For scale a pony costs about four silver pennies. There are about four gold pennies in one gold coin. One gold penny amounts to four silver coins and likewise four silver pennies in a silver coin. which means I had four cubed times 40, 2,560 silver pennies, plenty of capital to open my newspaper business.

The first order of business was getting my car back. I had scouted out a path through the forest the day before, and the repairs to the granary were almost completed. The only thing left to do was get the car into the city.

So using a tarp and a rented horse I backtracked to where the car had been left, hitched it to the horse, and started making my way back. The biggest obstacle had been the Rammas Echor, but I had chosen peak hours in which to make my way through and there were many merchants making their way thorough. The guards where suspicious at first but when I showed the deed to the granary as proof of residence I received only a cursory glance and after paying a fee I was waved through.

I set up my still covered car near the back of the granary, where it would remain until I needed it for later.

Now that I had taken care of that, it was time to set up shop. It took some time to find trustworthy looking people to hire, but a few parchment adds later I had a group of people ready to work. None of them the wiser to the revolution they were about to kickstart.


	8. Chapter 8: Gathering Supplies

**Chapter Eight: Making News**

* * *

 **Apartment, Minas Tirith, Gondor**

 **2988 T.A.**

I found a decently priced apartment in the second circle, nothing fancy but better then sleeping on the streets. What clothes I had were limited to what I had on me when I arrived as well as what was provided by the guards the first day so a trip to the market had been in order.

After getting back and putting away all the purchases, I decided to go over some specifics of the plan.

I realized that I couldn't do this alone, and while the ten workers would help with the workload I still needed someone skilled with crafting. Therefore I had to find a way to convince Jimli, the blacksmith, to join me. The easiest way to do that was to bribe him, not with gold, but maybe with knowledge and promises of grandeur.

I got out a piece of parchment and began writing down what I remembered about the Bessemer process and steel in general.

* * *

 **Blacksmith, Minas Tirith, Gondor**

 **The Next Day**

The ringing sounds of metal striking metal filled the air as I entered the smithy. It was a small affair being only two rooms and having only a single smith.

"Hello? Jimli, are you here?" I called out hoping to be heard over the roar of the forge.

"Be right with ye!" Called out a voice from inside the shop as the noise began subsiding.

"David! Good to see you again. Heard you finally cured the good lady, well done." He says as he walks out to greet me.

"Yes well, it was bound to happen eventually."

"As it should. Anyway, what can I do you for?" He asks.

"I was actually here to offer you a job." I say, placing down the plans for a Bessemer converter on the shop's counter. "You've seen what I want to build with the printing press, this is a design for a machine which will revolutionize steel production. Imagine strong, quality, inexpensive steel produced in large quantities. But if quality is more your thing..." I trail off placing a new parchment on the table. "...this might convince you."

Jimli looks through the designs for the converter, looking it over with interest. Then he makes his way over to the last piece of parchment.

"What in Aule's blazes is this?" He asks.

"This is something called a phase diagram." I say while picking up the parchment and gesturing to specific parts of it. "Specifically, this denotes the interaction between carbon, the main ingredient in coal, and iron at different temperatures."

Jimli merely looks at me in askance.

"With this, you can create different types of metal with different properties depending on the carbon and temperature." I explain.

At this Jimli's eye's light up.

"How did you obtain this?" Asks Jimli while holding the sheet in reverence. "With this you could make swords and axes strong enough to go up against even enchanted blades!" He exclaims, suddenly excited.

"So will you accept my offer?" I ask.

"Well how much are ye paying? Dwarves gotta eat you know."

"How does 20 silver a month sound?" I say.

"Eh. Good enough. You got yourself a dwarf." He says.

We smile and shake hands.

* * *

 **Granary, Minas Tirith, Gondor**

 **The Next Day**

I'm standing in the now refurbished granary. Jimli is beside me and a group of 10 people are gathered in front of me.

"Hello, everybody! My name is David Jones and welcome to my, and hopefully our, new business." I announce to the assembled group of people before me. "While you are here you may find your perceptions of the conventional challenged. You will see new things and work closely with the machines which will build a brighter future for Gondor. Your actions here will have a direct consequence on the entire world. If that makes any of you uncomfortable the exit is right over there."

I pause for effect, looking each of the ten gathered individuals in the eye before I continue.

"Our first product, and the one which most of you will be working on is called a printing press. It is something which has never before existed in Middle Earth, as such we will be building the first and only one of its kind. Now, who here has blacksmith experience, or was a crafter?" I ask.

Three people raise their hands. Two men and one woman.

"Good. What are your names?" I ask, singling them out.

"My name is Sonya, mister Jones." Replies the woman.

The other two quickly follow suit.

"My name is Thorbert sir, I used to be a silversmith." He states.

"Mine is Linwood, and I was apprenticed to a blacksmith." Replies the other one.

"Excellent! The three of you will be aiding Jimli here in the actual construction of the machine." The rest of you will be helping me with securing adequate supplies of ink and paper to run the printer.

The three then headed off with Jimli to the forge while I turned to address the remaining seven which I quickly divided into two groups of three.

"Okay group one will be in charge of ink. Ink is very expensive, thus we will be making our own. Ink is made of lampblack and linseed oil, therefore it will fall to you three to secure an adequate supply of both as well as some soap, which we will use later."

After dismissing the first group I turn to the second.

"You lot will be tasked with the paper. Papyrus is too glossy so we can't use it. Vellum might work as a short term solution, but the sooner we get a paper mill going the easier things will be. I have written down some instructions your task will be to find a felt maker and ensure he follows my instructions to the letter." I say while handing out a set of instructions to each of them.

Once the second group had gone there was only one person left.

"What shall I do mister Jones?" Asked the man.

"You, my good fellow, shall come with me. We are going to visit the brandy maker." I said.

"Are you planning a celebration?" he asked.

"Not quite. You'll see once we get there." I replied.

* * *

 **Distillery, Minas Tirith, Gondor**

 **2988 T.A.**

The distillery was fairly large and apparently one of three which supplied most of the local area with alcohol of various types.

"Greetings." Said the man behind the counter.

"Hello." I replied stepping up to the counter as my assistant, who I had learned was named Cayden, followed close by.

"How may I assist you?" Asked the man.

"I would like to purchase a bottle of your best wine please." I responded.

The man behind the counter nodded and turned to fetch the order.

"I couldn't help but admire the excellent still you have there." I said. "I myself was looking for good copper piping but alas, I was unable to find any."

"Well." He replied walking over. "We got our piping from a craftsman on the third level. I'm sure he could lend you a hand."

"Excellent." I said while paying for the wine and handing the bottle to Cayden.

With that we left the distillery and made our way to the third circle.

* * *

 **Copperworks, Minas Tirith, Gondor**

 **Minutes Later**

The copper works were tucked away in one of the corners of the city, next to the mountain. The design for the building was quite ingenious actually. The chimney for the ovens was carved directly into the mountain which led the smoke away from the city proper. The building itself was divided into two sections, a store front and the copper works. We were headed to the copper works.

Upon entering we were quickly approached by one of the workers.

"Hey, you shouldn't be in here." Exclaimed the worker.

"My organization would like to purchase that set of rolls over there."

The worker's eyebrows shot up in surprise, then he leveled us a glare and said: "Absolutely not! You could not even begin comprehend how behind we would get. Orders upon orders would pile up!"

"We are willing to pay gold up front and throw in this fine bottle of wine." I reply gesturing to Cayden.

"Gold, you say?" He asked eying the bottle.

"Yes, one gold coin and this bottle for that roller."

The worker thought it over for a minute, then finally replied.

"Very well. You may pick it up on the morrow at noon." He instructed.

"Many thanks." I reply, handing over the bottle and the gold.

After that we quickly left the building and headed back.

* * *

 **Granary, Minas Tirith, Gondor**

 **Hours Later**

Once more all of the workers had been assembled in the granary. Reports from all the groups indicated that we could begin production of the newspaper the next day.

Things were moving along nicely.

"Good job everyone." I announce to the assembled group. "Tomorrow we can assemble the press and begin the initial run."

A few congratulatory handshakes later and then everyone was allowed to go home for the night. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day after all.


	9. Chapter 9: Making News

**Chapter Nine: Making News**

* * *

 **Granary, Minas Tirith, Gondor**

 **2988 T.A.**

"Ye should really think about coming up with a name for this place." Said Jimli.

"Yeah, 'The Granary' doesn't really inspire that sense of innovation does it? Meh, I'll do it eventually." I replied.

Jimli and I had gotten here early to make sure everything was ready for opening day, the press had come along marvelously and was now sitting against one of the walls of the room.

A letterpress style printing press consists of three parts; a disc, a roller, and a forme. How it worked was quite simple really. The worker at the press placed a blob of black ink on the disc which would rotate while the press was operating. Then the roller would run over the disc which not only smoothed out the blob of ink but also transferred a thin coating of ink onto the roller itself. This roller would go over the forme, which contained the actual words to be applied to the page, transferring the ink onto the metal surface. The forme would then be pressed into the paper, leaving the words imprinted on the page.

The first publication of our press would be a basic alphabet book, something which could be considered useful to those that could read, and foster literacy in those who couldn't. This would be followed by our first newspaper which would announce our intent to the entire city.

By this point people had started funneling into the granary and assembling the forme to begin production.

I looked on silently as the large wheels of the press started turning and paper was turned into newsprint. This was something new, something which had never before been seen in all of Middle Earth's history! This was also only a beginning of something greater, the inventions I would create here would change the world. Though whether those inventions would be used to further mankind's knowledge or aggression was yet to be seen.

* * *

 **Fifth Circle Market, Minas Tirith, Gondor**

 **2988 T.A.**

Etean had been quite busy ever since Finduilas had been healed by that strange man. With the return of Finduilas health, her routine had finally gone back to normal and she could now focus on her other household duties such as ensuring the home was properly supplied.

Etean quite liked to walk around the marketplace, seeing the sights and sounds of the city. A much welcome contrast to the somber silence which had plagued her life as of late. The familiar sounds of the market were comforting, however there seemed to be a new voice among the vendors.

"Newspapers! Get yer news here!" The new voice cried.

Etean quickly made her way towards the voice whereupon she found a small crowd gathered around a person who was apparently selling pieces of parchment. No, not parchment. Upon closer inspection Etean realized that the material was too white and smooth for parchment, she also realized there was writing on the sheets.

Those are books! She realized. But there were so many, she had never seen that many books outside of her lord's library.

'A collection like that must cost a fortune.' She thought to herself.

"Hello." She said approaching the vendor. "How much would one of your books cost?"

"Well, the boss says that a person's first purchase is free, but anything after that is gonna cost about a silver penny for each copy you buy." Explained the vendor.

"Free?" She asked giving the vendor a suspicious look.

"Yeah, free. Now are ye gonna buy something or just look at me all day?" He replied with a fairly exhausted expression.

Not wanting to let this opportunity go to waste Etean quickly grabbed one of the books on the table and left. After she had finished with here errands she eventually sat down pulled out the book she had acquired. The first thing she noticed was that the book had no binding, or even a cover. The second thing she noticed was that each of the pages had an illustration, a sentence, and a large letter on it. She quickly flipped through the pages and realized that each of the pictures was somehow related to the letter on the page, and the sentence described what was going on in the picture.

'How marvelous!' She thought as she continued reading, eventually lighting a candle as the day ended so that she could continue to peruse the new book she had acquired and the images it contained.

* * *

 **Granary, Minas Tirith, Gondor**

 **A Few Weeks Later**

The press had turned out to be quite a success, after the first day people had begun to rush to grab a copy of the newspapers before the sold out. Eventually we had had to expand the operation to a second letterpress just to keep up with demand. We had also seen an influx of people asking for a job at 'The Granary' as people had been calling it. We had to turn away most of them, but there were a few skilled workers among them who have been sent with Jimli to help out on the new color press he was working on.

With the printing press project now completed and turning a profit, I handed the task of running it to Caydan while I worked my newest project.

"What'cha doing?" Asked Sonya.

"What do you mean?" I replied.

"Well, you've got that look on your face which means your thinking really hard about something." She explained.

"Are you doing anything important right now?" I asked

"No. Not particularly."

"Good, then follow me." I say as I drag her out of the granary.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

Eventually we reach our destination.

"Uh... What is that smell?" Asks Sonya.

"That my dear is the collective human waste of all of Minas Tirith. Beautiful, isn't it?" I say.

Sonya just gives me a look which promises much pain if I don't explain quickly.

"Okay, imagine if we could light all of Minas Tirith at night, every night, for the foreseeable future without having to cut down a single tree."

"If you were anyone else, I would say you've lost it." Sonya replies. "But what does that have to do with us being here?"

"Well, theres a machine I can build, much like the press, which can do such a thing. The only caveat is that it requires shit. Loads and loads of shit. Now currently most of the refuse you see here is either used as fertilizer, which is really unsanitary, or just carted into the river and dumped. But my machine can use that as fuel and create light in return."

"Of course it will." Sonya replies sarcastically. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"Fine then, to the design board we go!" I exclaimed loudly as we began to make our way back to the city.

* * *

 **Apartment, Minas Tirith, Gondor**

 **Later That Day**

Pulling up the plans for a basic biogas digester from my laptop was fairly easy. The digester was actually one of my summer projects when I interned at a green energy company. Anyways, after downloading the plans and sketching it out on paper came the task of gathering the materials to build a prototype.

But it was getting dark outside and perhaps that would be a task best left to tomorrow.


End file.
